His second-hand bookshelf, his
canary-birds and white rabbits, his fox-terriers and goldfish are
friends that never fail, and in them he has found content. His
eagerness to chat occasionally with some one who cares, as he cares,
for his beloved books, is not at times to be resisted, but I was in
no mood to talk to-day. I wondered if I could hurry by.
"Good morning!" The blue bottle, half filled with water, in which a
tiny bulb was floating, was waved toward me, and a shaggy white head
nodded at me. "It's a fine day, ain't it?--a fine day for snow.
Good and gray. I think we'll have some flakes before night. Kinder
feel like a boy again when it's snowing. I don't know yet which
season I like best. Every one has got its glory. What you been up
to to-day? Seeing some more things?"
I nodded. "I wish I could come in, but I can't." I shivered, though
I was not cold. "I am going up-town." A minute before I had no
intention of going up-town, but to go indoors was suddenly
impossible. Whatever was possessing me must be fought off alone. "I
will bring you my copy of Men and Nations to-morrow.
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